


The Last Words of a Dying Man

by GraceRB



Series: The Profound Bond [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 4x07 Yellow Fever, Alternate Ending, Case Fic, Castiel needs to use his words, Coda, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Kissing, M/M, Sam does the parenting, season four
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:06:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29540724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraceRB/pseuds/GraceRB
Summary: Dean gets ghost sickness, and in his final moments he calls for a friend.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: The Profound Bond [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2170305
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	The Last Words of a Dying Man

**Author's Note:**

> So this is an alternate ending to 4x07 "Yellow Fever". I wanted Cas to be in that episode so I wrote this.

They were hunting... something. They had guessed a ghost, or maybe a demon, but the victims were all dying the exact same way. Sam proposed a ghost, and Dean was scared by it, but didn't disagree. There were a few victims, all with scratches on their arms, all scared and jumpy, and had healthy hearts but died of heart attacks. 

Sam and Dean talked to a man in his apartment, about the victim, Frank O'Brian, a room covered wall to wall with terrariums, snakes, tarantulas, and even an alligator. Dean... did not like it in there. 

When Dean was driving back to the hotel that night, Sam made fun of him for driving cautiously. More cautiously than normal. A lot more cautiously than normal. "You're going twenty," he chuckled. 

"So?"

"That's the speed limit."

"So, what? Safety's a crime now?" Dean looked over at him and raised his eyebrows. 

He chuckled, then looked out at something through Dean’s window. "Dean, that was our motel!"

"I'm not taking a left hand turn into oncoming traffic, I'm not suicidal!" Dean shouted, then paused. "Huh. Did I just say that? That was weird." He shrugged off and kept driving. 

There was a small noise coming from Sam's jacket. "Do you hear that?" He pulled the EMF meter out of his pocket, and when it got closer to Dean it started spiking. 

"Am I haunted?" Dean looked at him again and shouted,  _ "Am I haunted?!" _

-

"Frank O'Brian's ring," Sam said, holding the ring up to look at it.

"What was he doing here?"

"No idea," He answered. 

They ventured further into the abandoned lumber mill, Sam in front with a rock salt shotgun, and Dean behind with the flashlight. They heard a small thumping noise, coming from some lockers in a small room in a hallway. Sam went in ahead, and said quietly, "On three. One, two, three." Then he opened the locker door.

A cat jumped out, and meowed. Dean screamed a loud, girly scream. Sam stared at him in utter disbelief. Dean doubled over, and when he looked back up, he broke into a broad smile. "That was scary!" 

Sam walked out of the small room, and Dean followed, eyes drawn to a table with a ton of drawings of the same woman. "Hey, this is Frank O'Brian's wife."

"Luther Garland," Sam said, picking up an ID photo. 

Dean picked up one of the drawings, accidentally ripping it. All of the machines in the mill started up, and Dean’s eyes froze on something behind Sam. There was a figure there, bigger than both of them, and it was facing the wall. 

Dean stared at it, completely frozen in fear. Sam turned to follow his gaze, and raised his shotgun. "Hey! What are you doing here?"

Dean bolted, and the ghost pounced. Sam shot at it, but when he looked to Dean, who wasn’t there, he fled too. 

Dean curled up behind the trunk of the Impala, and started drinking some whiskey. Downing it, actually. His heart was pounding so fast, he thought it'd never calm down. Sam peered down at him from over the car, and held up Luther Garland's ID card. "I think we've got the right place."

Dean nodded and got back in the driver's seat, scratching his forearm. 

-

Later on, the brothers visited the police station again, and got Luther Garland's file. There was no specific cause of death, and no location on a burial site. There was an address for his brother, so Sam pulled Dean out to the car and they drove to him. 

By this point, Dean was getting scared by every little thing, every little old lady coming around the corner, and couldn't stop worrying that they were going to get caught with their fake FBI badges. Sam told him to breathe, and once they got in to talk to Garland's brother, Dean calmed down a little bit. But the entire time, anxiety was pooling in his stomach and threatening to burst out at everything the man said. Dean scratched his arms in an attempt to quell his anxiety. 

So once they got outside, Dean freaked out and yelled at Sam. "Do you really like sitting in a car with me for eight hours a day, every single day? I don't think so. I'm done, I quit."

He walked away and got chased by a dog. He could have sworn it was a hell hound -- and he was not going back to Hell, not now -- so he ran back to the motel. 

"How'd you get here? I've been looking for you everywhere."

Dean was sweaty and still panting, "Ran," He replied gently. "I've only got four hours left. I'm gonna die, Sammy."

"Well, looks like you're going back," Sam shrugged, sitting down on the bed. 

"Back?"

"Downstairs. Hell, Dean," He nodded. "It's about damn time, too. You've been a pain in my ass."

His eyes turned yellow and everything started going blurry. "Get the hell out of my brother, you son of a bitch!" He threw his hand out, and Dean was thrown into and held against the wall. Sam was using his powers on him. 

"This is just me, Dean. This is what I'm going to become," He smiled devilishly. "You're going back, and there's nothing you can do to stop it." Sam started choking Dean and he tried to push his younger brother away, but suddenly Sam’s  _ arms _ were pinning him against the wall. "Hey! Hey!" Sam looked like himself again. 

"Sammy?" Dean asked softly, my breathing still heavy. 

Sam backed off, and Dean stood alone. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, loud and unrelenting. "You're okay," Sam said. "It's okay, I'm here."

Dean tried to take in a deep breath, and sat back down on his bed, scratching at his arm again. "Okay," he said quietly. He didn't really believe his brother, but Dean didn't want Sam to think he was weak or something.

"Try to get a couple hours of sleep, I'm gonna call Bobby again."

Dean nodded and changed into his normal clothes. He laid down on his bed, and dreamt of Hell, of the hounds and Lilith. He woke up, but  _ before _ a certain angel dragged him out. 

-

The sheriff's dead body was in the middle of the room, and Dean covered it with a blanket. He couldn't save him. He sat down on his bed, and his heart was beating faster and faster and faster. He picked up a Bible from the floor, and held it close, shutting his eyes to pray. Instead, Lilith showed up. 

He couldn't look at her. "No," He yelled. "You're not real!"

"Dean! I missed you. Are you ready to come back now?" She looked so innocent, a blonde little girl in a pretty pink dress. He knew inside was something ugly and evil. 

"You're not real!"

"Oh, come on, Dean."

He looked up to the ceiling. He felt tears running down his face. "Cas," He called out. "Please, I need your help."

Lilith was still there, now screaming at him. "You're coming back! Listen to your heart," she grinned, and Dean fell to the ground. His heart was going  _ so _ fast. "Ba-boom! Ba-boom! Ba-boom!"

Cas was there, suddenly. "Cas! Please!" Dean reached a hand out to him, and he took it. 

He kneeled down. "Dean? What's the matter?"

Dean sat up and threw his arms around the angel, burying his face into his neck. "It's -- It's my heart," He huffed, trying to gasp in air. "It hurts, Cas." 

Lilith was gone, but Dean could still hear her words, using that little girl's voice.

"You'll be alright, Dean," He said, and Dean felt his arms wrap around his back. 

"I'm scared, Cas, I don't -- want to go back -- " He couldn't talk anymore, and his breaths turned to wheezes. Dean’s heart was going so,  _ so _ fast, and he clung to Cas because he was there and Dean just wanted him in that moment.

Then his heart stopped. 

"Dean?" His voice was unusually soft. Dean’s body went limp and his head lolled back. His eyes were still open, and he could see Cas start to tear up and he felt the angel shake him. When it didn't work, he hugged Dean again, putting his limp arms around his shoulders. "I couldn't get here in time... I'm sorry, Dean." 

He pulled back to look at Dean’s face, and he put his hand on one side. His eyebrows creased together, and he looked at him through tears. He couldn't form any words, and clamped his eyes shut. His forehead rested against Dean’s, and his other hand closed his eyes.

It was then that Dean took in a deep breath, and he felt his heart beating normally again. Dean tightened his arms around Cas. "Don't cry," he said hoarsely. 

Cas drew back, just a few inches, and Dean opened his eyes again. Cas’ eyes widened, "You're alive," He said softly. His eyes darted around Dean’s face, and Cas kissed him. It was quick, but warm and very comforting. 

When he pulled away, Dean grinned up at him. "I'm alive," He sat up, so his body weight wasn't crushing Cas’s legs. "Bobby and Sam must have gotten lucky." Cas let go of Dean, and looked... grumpy. Dean wondered why. They had just kissed after all. "What?"

Cas glared sideways at him. "You only ever call me when you're in danger," He wiped his face and took in a deep breath.

"You only ever answer when we're in danger," Dean shot back. "And it's not like you're the easiest person to get a hold of."

Cas sighed, frustrated, and stood. He offered Dean a hand and helped him up. "I can't come see you for every little thing. I have responsibilities, as well, Dean."

"Then what's the problem? We still see each other often," Dean’s voice trailed off. They didn't get to see each other that much, did they?

"So you're not going to talk about it?'

"Talk about what?"

Cas glared again, and grabbed Dean by the shirt collar, pinning him up against the wall. "You're annoying," He grumbled. "Selfish. Why did you even call me here?"

Dean’s expression softened. "What do you want me to say? I -- I needed you. And… I like it when you're here."

His lips pressed into a firm line. "Is that all, then?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "How about this --" He flipped them around, so Cas was against the wall, and kissed him again. Dean made sure it was deeper this time, and a hundred times longer than before.

Cas’s hands pulled at Dean’s hair, and their bodies melted together. Dean couldn't help but thank God for giving him an angel like this.

**Author's Note:**

> Dean is totally the bottom.


End file.
